


Watch the Sky

by worrisomeme



Series: Fall [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Master/Slave, just pure tooth-rotting fluff, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 08:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10460757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrisomeme/pseuds/worrisomeme
Summary: Sebastian hadn’t realized how much he’d been missing the fresh air until now. He takes a couple deep breaths and leans against the railing of the balcony, looking down at the people wandering about below. He lets his mind wander too, thinking about where they’re going and what their lives are like. It’s a nice, peaceful moment.Until Chris joins him, settles right next to him on the railing. Sebastian bristles a little, but Chris stays put. Seb does note, though, that he doesn’t actually touch him, doesn’t grab him around the waist like some would have.“So,” Chris asks after a moment, turning to look at him. “Are you going to tell me your name yet?"He hesitates, eyeing him warily, then he shifts his gaze back to the city. He watches lights flick on in buildings and cars winding their way through the city streets. Finally, just barely above a whisper, he says, “Sebastian.A grin breaks out on Chris’ face so big and so warm and so wonderful it reminds Sebastian of the sun. “It’s nice to meet you,” he pauses, holding a hand out to shake, “Sebastian.” And when he says his name, the smaller man thinks he might melt. It’s never sounded so sweet as it does on his new master’s lips.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fluffy little story takes place between [part 1](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8161108) and [part 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8186866), right after Sebastian finally lets Chris in and tells him his name :)
> 
> Enjoy!!<3

_Sebastian hadn’t realized how much he’d been missing the fresh air until now. He takes a couple deep breaths and leans against the railing of the balcony, looking down at the people wandering about below. He lets his mind wander too, thinking about where they’re going and what their lives are like. It’s a nice, peaceful moment._

_Until Chris joins him, settles right next to him on the railing. Sebastian bristles a little, but Chris stays put. Seb does note, though, that he doesn’t actually touch him, doesn’t grab him around the waist like some would have. He has been a very strange master so far._

_“So,” Chris asks after a moment, turning to look at him. “Are you going to tell me your name yet?”_

_He hesitates, eyeing him warily, then he shifts his gaze back to the city. He watches lights flick on in buildings and cars winding their way through the city streets. Finally, just barely above a whisper, he says, “Sebastian.”_

A grin breaks out on Chris’ face so big and so warm and so wonderful it reminds Sebastian of the sun, of sweet puppies playing with little children, of freshly spun cotton candy.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he pauses, holding a hand out to shake, “Sebastian.” And when he says his name, the smaller man thinks he might melt. It’s never sounded so sweet as it does on his new master’s lips.

Seb blushes and turns away, fidgeting with the leather around his neck as he mumbles, “Da, tu cred.” _Yeah, you too I guess._

Chris chuckles as he drops his hand and as a shiver runs down his spine Seb vaguely thinks that this man is the personification of a warm summer day, sunshine embodied. Chris lets his gaze drift back to the city in front of them and says, “That’s okay. Take all the time you need.”

Sebastian glances at him out of the corner of his eye and that smile still hasn’t faltered, not even a bit. “Eşti foarte ciudat,” he says. _You’re very strange._

Chris doesn’t respond, doesn’t say anything for a long time, just lets the somewhat comfortable silence stretch out between them as they watch the city waking up.

“My mom was a dancer,” he says finally, a random thought, a tangent, as he’s wont to do. “That’s what started my obsession with learning instruments. By the time we were born, my siblings and I, my mom owned a dance studio. My brother Scott and my sister Carly learned how to dance, with my mom. And me and Shana did too, a little. But mostly we sat around with Mrs. Shovan at the piano and learned to play. I even took her place for a while, after she retired.”

Sebastian listens to the whole story in silence, as he has with all the others, only briefly glancing at the other man from the corner of his eye from time to time. Mostly he feigns disinterest, even as he’s filing the information away for later.

“Anyway,” Chris turns back to Sebastian, flashing that smile again, “want me to show you around the apartment?”

Sebastian turns to him, a little hesitant, face scrunched up he’s sure. Chris’ train of thought is impossible to predict, all over the place. “Uhhh,” is all he can get out for a long moment, then he manages a simple, “Cred.” _I guess._

“Is that a yes?” Chris asks with a laugh. He waggles his eyebrows playfully. “You’re going to _love_ the royal tour.”

Sebastian can’t stop the little sputter of a laugh that escapes his lips, eyebrows raised as he gives just the slightest nod. “Da, bun, arătaţi-mi,” he says finally. _Yeah, fine, show me._

“Da means yes in Russian!” Chris exclaims, laughing again. “So I’m taking that as a yes. C’mon.”

Without thinking, he rests a hand on the small of Seb’s back and the younger man flinches away instinctively – he really hadn’t meant to, his heart racing again as his smile falters and he curls in on himself just a little.

“Shit!” Chris hisses, hurt on his face as he pulls his hand back like he’s been burnt. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’ll ask next time. I didn’t even think- I’m sorry.”

Sebastian, eyes wide now, takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Nu, e în regulă, îmi pare rău,” he mutters. _No, it’s okay, I’m sorry._ He straightens, like an obedient slave should, hands clasped behind his back as he gives a little nod, motions toward the rest of the apartment with another nod of his head.

Chris bites his lip at Sebastian’s change in posture, fidgets a little. “You can just be yourself around me, you know,” he says. “You don’t have to play good soldier.”

He hesitates and it’s only when Sebastian drops his hands to his sides, relaxes just slightly, that he finally, still chewing on his lip, motions inside. “Um, well, uh, follow me. I’ll, uh, show you where everything is…” he trails off, like he still isn’t sure.

As Seb follows him back into the bedroom, he can’t help but think about how nice, how warm and firm, and yet soft, too, oddly enough, Chris’ hand had been on his back for that brief moment. Can’t help but think about how long it’s been since anyone had touched him so gently, with such kindness. And with a simple reflex it had been taken away, just because he couldn’t control himself.

It’s all he can think about the whole time he follows his new master around from room to room. The studio is beautiful and the living room is expansive. He’ll want for nothing with Chris, that’s for sure. He’d never have to leave the damn apartment if he didn’t feel like it, if he wasn’t ordered to. Oh, but he’s sure there will be parties. If Chris is big enough in his field to be making this kind of money then there will be events, galas, things like that. It’s not a concern, though, nothing he’s not used to.

But that hand on his back, that’s new. His old masters had never touched him with anything but violence in mind, to make him obey, to make him behave, to make him… Well, he can’t think of that, now, can he? Shouldn’t, at the very least. He’s got a new master to please now. That is his job, after all. Chris… Well, he’s not like Dennis, like the others. If he behaves, if he’s good, Chris will be kind to him. That he’s sure of.

Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe he doesn’t have to escape from this. Maybe he can be content. Here. With Chris.

Maybe.

“Did you want to watch TV or something?” Chris asks, a nervous smile on his face, as they finish the tour in the living room. “What do you like to watch?”

He’s cute, Seb thinks. Naïve. As if he’d ever had the chance to find out what he likes to watch. Not since he was a teenager back in Romania. He’s pretty sure none of those shows are an option anymore.

Chris is so nice he forgets himself, scoffs at his new master and raises his eyebrows skeptically. “Nu sţiu,” he says honestly, shrugging his shoulders. _I don’t know_. Then he realizes his tone and blushes, purses his lips and bows his head. “Îmi pare rău,” he mumbles the apology, twisting his fingers behind his back.

“Was that an apology?” Chris asks him, a smirk on his lips. “Îmi… pare…. îmi pare rău,” he repeats clumsily. “You said that earlier, too. You don’t have to apologize for being sassy. It’s cute,” he chuckles and flops down onto the couch, clicking the television on and motioning for Seb to join him.

Sebastian swallows hard and watches the other man as he flicks through channels.  In his mind is a war, struggling between trusting this man and fear of those like him, between what he knows of these men and how Chris has been behaving, between wanting to try to escape and staying here in this beautiful home, a prince in his tower.

“Is this okay?” Chris asks him, eyes curious and concerned where they’re trained on him. Without words he’s also asking, _Are_ you _okay?_

Sebastian stares at him for a long moment, realizes he hasn’t moved from the end of the hallway, then glances at the TV. He doesn’t recognize the show, but it doesn’t really matter, now does it? He flashes his sweetest, most obedient smile and gives a slight nod.

“Da,” he says. “Da, este bun.” _It’s fine._ He settles on his knees at Chris’ feet.

“Oh! You, uh, you don’t have to- You can sit up here… with me,” Chris says, surprised and flustered and blushing.

Sebastian cranes his neck to look up at him, eyebrows furrowed. He studies his master’s face for a long, long moment, ever hesitant, and asks, “Esti sigur?” _Are you sure?_

Chris smiles and it’s so genuine Seb wonders if he’s actually in a ditch somewhere, heavily drugged and dreaming up this man.

“I don’t know what you said,” he starts, keeping his tone light and more composed now as he pats the cushion next to his, “but you should really join me on the couch. Much more comfy.”

Seb takes a breath, lingering on the floor for another minute before giving a little nod. He climbs to his feet and delicately steps around the other man before perching on the couch next to him. Chris doesn’t seem to mind him keeping his distance, so he puts just a little bit of space between them, just so they’re not actually touching.

They watch a whole episode in silence and it’s only slightly awkward, Seb fidgeting as he watches, with his collar, the shirt he’s swimming in, the hem of the sweatpants. Even so, Sebastian finds himself fond of the show – some crime show with a cute genius boy and a girl who is the embodiment of a rainbow, where they use psychology to find the murderer.

But still, and now so close, he’s stuck on the thought of Chris’ hand on his back. He finds himself once again distracted by the thought as another episode starts playing.

Chris is his master, and the masters are the whole reason he was stolen from his home, from his family. They’re the enemy. So Chris should be the enemy too, shouldn’t he? He shouldn’t want those big, warm hands on him, shouldn’t be longing to feel them caress his body, touch his cheek, shouldn’t be thinking about what those arms would feel like wrapped around him, keeping him safe, those lips on his-

And yet, here he is.

And Chris isn’t like the others, he reasons for the millionth time. He’s been gentle and sweet, goofy even. He’s seemed to care so far, to want to take care of him. He’s seemed kind. And Sebastian hasn’t been touched gently in so long, he reminds himself again. It’s natural for him to long for it when he’s so… oh what’s that word?

Touch-starved, that’s it.

He’s not so sure it applies when you’ve been touched so often, but maybe, just maybe, since it’s been nothing but violence, it’s allowed.

Anyway, in his head he can use whatever words to describe himself that he likes. So there.

And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give in, be a good little slave, if it means those gentle touches. Maybe it isn’t a bad thing, here, in this particular case. Maybe he can grow to trust this master, to like him even.

The thought of a prince in a tower returns to him and he lets his mind wander back to long-lost fairy tales.

Maybe Chris isn’t his captor, doesn’t have to be. Maybe he doesn’t have to think of him like that. Giving in isn’t always bad, right? Maybe Chris can be his knight in shining armor, rescuing him. And how stupid would he have to be to fight a knight in shining armor? What princess doesn’t want to be saved?

A stupid one.

Don’t be a stupid prince, he scolds himself. Then scolds himself again, a blush blooming on his cheeks, for thinking of himself as a prince when he’s nothing more than a lowly slave.

“Are you hungry?” Chris asks, shaking him from his thoughts.

Sebastian looks over at him and his blush deepens when he sees the way the other man is staring at him, like he hung the damn moon or something. How long was he watching him like that?

“You’re probably hungry,” Chris decides, smile growing, before Seb answers. “I know I am. I’m going to go make us something.” He climbs to his feet and starts toward the kitchen.

It takes Sebastian’s brain a moment to register what just happened. His master is going to cook.. for him? Even now that he’s got him out of the room?

Uhh… what?

He clambers to feet quickly and catches up to him in the kitchen. Chris is already riffling through the fridge, pulling things out and setting them on the counter.

“Nu trebuie să faci asta!” Seb insists. _You don’t have to do that!_ He lingers in the doorway, not really sure what’s keeping him there, rooted to the spot like that, but he just can’t seem to get his feet to move. “Pot sa gatesc,” he goes on anyway. _I can cook._ “Sunt un mare bucătar. Pot să gătesc pentru tine.” _I'm a great cook. I can cook for you._

But Chris, apparently done with the fridge now, just laughs as he closes it, hip pressing into the counter where he leans against it as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I get that you’re trying to argue with me about something,” he says, “but if you want to get your way, you should probably try demanding it in a language I understand.”

“Și ce alte limbi nu înțelegi?,” he sasses, pouting now  even as he’s blushing again, mimicking Chris’ posture against the doorframe. _And what other languages do you understand?_

But Chris just chuckles again, grinning, clearly amused as he raises his eyebrows at him. “You’re so fuckin’ cute, you know that?” he says, shaking his head a little as he finally turns and focuses his attention back to the food that needs cooking. “How do you say cute in Romanian?” he teases, like an afterthought, over his shoulder.

Sebastian narrows his eyes at him but there’s no real heat in the gesture, not like the heat burning in his cheeks. He huffs and lets himself sulk for a moment before mumbling, “Drăguţ.”

After lunch Chris asks Sebastian if there’s anything else he’d like to do, but Seb just shrugs his shoulders and continues his refusal to answer in English, so they watch a movie. Chris asks if Seb wants to play video games, but the reply is the same so he just watches as his new master plays. That’s certainly new, too. His other masters had been much older, stuffier. They’d never even had gaming systems, talk about played them. And, shit, have video games changed since he was taken.

For dinner Chris opts to order out, seeming happy when Seb chatters excitedly in Romanian at his suggestion of Thai food. They watch more of the show with the cute genius boy while they eat, and then, despite more protests from Seb, Chris cleans up when they’re done.

The sun had set a while ago and it’s starting to get late by the time Chris settles back in to his spot on the couch. The exhaustion hits Seb like a train, fast and hard and unexpected. Well, he reasons, he’s had the most active day since… well, since he maimed poor deserving Dennis Ulrick, he thinks, bitter and smug simultaneously.

He turns and watches Chris, engrossed in the show. He lets his eyes drag over those large muscles, visible through the thin fabric of his tight shirt, and thinks again of being wrapped in those arms, of feeling small and safe and warm and protected.

Maybe, he thinks again, it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would even be… nice.

He turns back to the TV and as a yawn drags itself from his throat he lets the exhaustion overtake him, lets his body droop and lean heavy against Chris’ side, his head on his shoulder.

He can practically feel Chris’ smile as he shifts to glance down at him. He can hear it in his voice as he asks, “Tired, beautiful?”

Seb lets his eyes slip closed, letting out a little hum as he nods.

“Here,” Chris says, “let me.” And with that he clicks off the TV and shifts, scooping Sebastian up in his arms like he’s nothing larger than a stuffed animal.

Seb lets out a little surprised noise, suddenly more awake from being startled, but manages to only squirm a little, wrapping his arms around Chris’ neck and trying to support his own weight as best he can without choking the other man. And, okay, as he settles, even he has to admit this feels nice. His eyes drift shut again as he melts into the other’s chest, into the touch. It’s pure euphoria, better than chocolate or sleep or an orgasm, to be touched and held so gently, and he lets out a soft sigh. He can hear his new master’s heartbeat.

Chris sets him down gently on the bed, and Seb’s too tired to even worry about his training, to even think he’s not supposed to be here, he’s supposed to be on the floor. But when Chris moves to pull back, to leave Sebastian to his space again, Seb surprises them both.

He catches Chris’ hand in his own and holds it firm, gently tugs on it even, whining softly.

“Sta,” he mumbles sleepily, blinking up at him. _Stay_. “Vă rog. Vă rog sta. Vreau ca tu sa.” _Please. Please stay. I want you to._ Then he starts whining again, soft little sounds, still tugging on Chris’ hand.

“You want me to- “ Chris motions to the other side of the bed, surprised and excited, lost for words. When Sebastian nods, letting out a happy little hum, he sucks in a breath and asks, “Are you sure?”

But Seb just nods again, letting go of Chris’ hand and squirming a little. He stretches and curls up into a ball, too tired to be guarded. And, dammit all to hell, it had just felt too fucking nice being close to the other man, being held like that.

Chris hesitates a fraction of a second longer before making his way to the other side of the bed. He pulls the blankets back just enough to slip under them and Seb bounces just a little as he does just that. His new master turns toward him, that grin spread across his whole face.

He doesn’t even try to hide it, even as he teases, “It’s about time I got to sleep in my own bed again.”

Even as he settles, he leaves space between him and Sebastian, not quickly forgetting the way the smaller man had flinched at his earlier touch.

“Îmi pare rău,” Sebastian mumbles half-heartedly, yawning again. He’s too tired to argue with himself, so he inches closer to his new master.

“It’s okay,” Chris says with a chuckle, the yawn contagious. “I was just teasin’.” He lets his eyes drift closed.

Seb blinks his eyes open, studying Chris’ face for a long moment. He looks so peaceful like this, so beautiful, so sweet. The others… they’d only looked cold, sinister. They’d only been cold… sinister.

Maybe, he thinks again, maybe he could get used to this. He lets his eyes flutter shut again and rolls over until his back is pressed right up against the larger man’s chest, as close as he can get, snuggled right up against him. Their bodies fit together perfectly.

Chris lets out a happy little surprised noise but doesn’t even open his eyes, just slips one arm under Seb’s head and wraps the other around his waist, tugging him impossibly closer and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“G’night,” he mumbles, already half-asleep.

“Noapte buna,” Sebastian mumbles back, turning his head and lightly pressing his lips to Chris’ arm, the ghost of a kiss. _Goodnight._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> I appreciate all of your lovely comments/kudos/etc sososososo much!!!<3
> 
> And you can always find me on [tumblr](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com) where you should totally come shriek at me about our favorite boys, headcanons, requests, whatever :) Let's be friends!<3
> 
> Love you guys!!


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